


One Moment Of Time

by WroughtBetwixt



Category: Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, Deception, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Party, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WroughtBetwixt/pseuds/WroughtBetwixt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stayne just wants one moment of her time. Is that so wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Moment Of Time

The Red Castle, home of the Red Queen, was buzzing with activity.

Decorated from top to bottom with crimson and green flowers, banners of red and gold, and glittering glass sculptures, the castle looked disturbingly festive. The Winter Ball was in full swing, with tables of lavish food laid out and bands playing cheerful tunes in the ballroom; people filled the castle, most of them garbed in fine clothes and masks. It would have been beautiful, Alice thought, had there not been the occasional disembodied head floating in the moat outside. Despite the expensive, lush trappings, it was still the Red Castle.

Alice had been stuck in the Castle for two weeks now, trying to find something out about the Jabberwock and the mysterious sword that could slay it. It was more difficult than she expected; when she had first stumbled onto the Castle, she’d been tiny thanks to a shrinking potion. The White Rabbit, captive of the Red Queen, had given her a growth potion so that she could get into the Castle. The Queen liked to collect unusual people, and had bought Alice’s story about being poor, seven-foot-tall “Um from Umbridge”. It was the perfect way in, except that her tallness had brought with it three distinct problems.

First of all, though the castle was large and filled with all sorts of strange people, Alice towered over most of them. It was difficult to sneak around when one was the height of a small tree, much less pry into areas where people weren’t supposed to go. It made her memorable, and Alice often found herself cursing at the fact that there always seemed to be someone peering at her. The second problem was that she had become the Queen’s new favorite; the Queen would often call Alice to her side, eager to talk about Umbridge and dull, terrible things that had nothing to do with monsters or weaponry. But despite how horrifying that was, the third problem was the worst of all, and he was standing across the room right that moment.

The Knave of Hearts was watching her again. Like usual, he was dressed all in black, with his long, wavy black hair gleaming in the lamplight. His missing eye was covered by a black patch in the shape of a heart, though the patch did nothing to cover the awful scars surrounding the eye. He wasn’t unattractive, even with the claw marks permanently etched into his alabaster skin; quite the opposite, really. Even so, he was the Queen’s closest servant, and the look he gave Alice made her heart twist into interesting positions. It wasn’t the curious glances the other servants gave her, nor the disinterested sneers of the Queen’s higher court. No, it was the look a hawk might give a sparrow, piercing and intense. Alice did her best to avoid the man, her pulse pounding at the mere thought of him; tonight, it wasn’t an option. The Queen expected her to be there, at her side like a good little toy, and no one refused the Queen.

“Aren’t you having fun, Um?” the Queen asked from the throne. “You look sick.”

“A bad oyster, I’m afraid,” Alice lied with a weak smile. “Thank you for your concern, my Queen.”

“A bad oyster!” The Queen screeched. Pointing at the nearest frog servant, the Queen hissed. “Find whoever prepared the oysters, and off with his head!”

Alice stared into space, truly feeling ill then as the servant scurried off. She only hoped that the servant would just pretend to look; the Queen would forget soon enough, anyways, since it wasn’t anything to do with her. “It could be nerves.”

The Queen snorted. “Don’t they have balls in Umbridge? Well, Um, we have them here. Better get used to them if you’re going to be my handmaiden!”

“Handmaiden?” Alice turned her wide eyes to the Queen. She felt like she was going to throw up. “What is a handmaiden?”

“I suppose Umbridge doesn’t have those, either. Why, every Queen needs a handmaiden. You will fetch me all my things, and run important errands for me.”

Her stomach twisting, Alice glanced over at the Knave. He was still watching, and Alice took a deep breath as the room spun. “But don’t you have Stayne for that, your Highness?”

There was another derisive snort. “He’s a man, Um. There are some things that are woman’s work, understand?”

A flicker of anger raced through Alice; she hated that idea, that there was work for men and work for women. Clenching her hands into fists, she steadied her voice as she replied. “I understand. It would be an honor.”

“Oh, Um. You do look so dreadful. Surely there’s something here to take your mind off that rotten food?” Sighing, the Queen looked around, then raised her voice into a high pitched scream. “Stayne! Stayne, come here!”

Before Alice could protest, the Knave was making his way across the ballroom; he kneeled before the Queen, kissing her hand. “Yes, my Queen?” he asked in that smooth, accented voice of his.

The Queen giggled. “Stayne, Um isn’t having a good time. Why don’t you have a dance with her?”

“Oh!” Alice froze, intrigue and horror smashing together in a terrifying way. “Oh, your Highness, I...”

“It would be my pleasure,” Stayne interrupted. He stood, offering Alice his hand with a predatory smile. “If it would be yours, Um.”

Alice was suddenly bolting from the room, clutching her stomach. She heard someone say something about bad oysters as she flew into the hall, scurrying for some quiet, unoccupied room. Finding one at the end of the long hallway, she ran in and shut the door, her breathing ragged as she tried to calm herself. Damn it, why had she done that? Why had she let that stupid man affect her in such a way? That smug look... maybe he knew. He must, but how? Had she somehow given herself away? But none of them knew what the “real Alice” was supposed to look like... right? Alice pressed her hands to her chest as she closed her eyes, standing in the empty room and tuning out the sounds of the party. Maybe she could go back and offer some excuse, if she could calm herself.

But then the door creaked open, and Alice trembled as it shut again, footsteps drawing closer. A gloved hand brushed her hair to the side, fingers sliding down the skin of her back, the red dress she wore exposing her flesh to that hot touch. But then the fingers stopped and repeated the move, over and over; Alice felt her muscles relax, just a little. 

“Are you sick, my lady?” Stayne asked.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

He chuckled. “Spitting little thing. Well, not so little. But I’ll always remember you as the snarling little girl, Alice, from so many years ago.”

“My name is Um,” Alice said automatically. She was shivering now, and the feeling roaring through her was terrifying. “Please stop...”

And he did. Stayne stepped back, but walked around to face her. “Yes, you’re Um. But you’re also Alice. Maybe the others don’t remember you, but I do. I was a young boy at the time, though a little older than you. Don’t you remember, Alice, when you were called to the trial?”

Alice met his gaze, unable to move; she didn’t remember, couldn’t remember. But if she said as much... what would he do? Was he bluffing, desperate to try and find Alice, so much that he would accuse any girl and hope he was right? But that look in his eyes was almost soft, and Alice found herself shaking her head. “I don’t remember anything,” she murmured. “I was sick.”

Stayne nodded, stroking his chin as he leaned against a wall. “I was blamed for stealing from the Queen. Ah, I didn’t do it, but you know her. You were the only one who spoke up for me, you know. Everyone else thought I should have been killed, but not little Alice. It caused such a ruckus that she forgot all about me, and by the time I grew up, she didn’t remember. She has a rather bad memory. It’s why she has me. I remember everything.” He paused, lowering his voice into a purr. “Do you think I’ll tell her?”

“Please,” Alice whispered. Memories danced along the corner of her mind, but she couldn’t grasp them; still, if he was telling the truth, maybe there was hope. “Please don’t tell her. I’ll do anything you want, I promise.”

Pushing off the wall, Stayne drew close enough that she could see the flecks of blue in his steel grey eye. “Anything?”

Alice felt ill at the tone of his voice. “Anything.”

He raised an eyebrow, then sighed. “Oh, Alice. What a terrible man you must think I am.” Stayne offered his hand once more. “And in some ways, you’d be right. But truly, I hate that miserable wretch as much as you. I wouldn’t tell her a thing, Alice, but since you have so willingly offered... all I ask is a moment of your time.”

The sick feeling ebbed away as Alice stared at Stayne. She tentatively lifted her hand, unsure of her ability to trust him. But he was already leading her down the hall, back to the ballroom and into the crowd. The music had wound down, slow and soothing; Stayne swept Alice into a waltz, and she felt herself relax into his arms. For those few minutes, it was merely the two of them and the music. The next dance came and went, and had the Queen not thrown a tantrum and ended the Winter Ball early... 

Alice found herself smiling as they stumbled towards her chambers, tipsy from the cinnamon drinks in between the dances. “I had a lovely night,” she said quietly as Stayne stopped outside her doorway. She didn’t mean to sound surprised, but it had already slipped from her mouth. “Thank you.”

“It was lovely, wasn’t it?” Stayne gave her a slight smile. “Too bad it has to end.”

It was an innocent comment, she was sure; Alice felt her heart flutter, and though she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or something more, she knew she didn’t want to be alone. Not yet, not tonight. This time she was the one to reach out a hand, unable to voice the intention in her mind; Stayne hesitated, and she felt a tiny, vicious thrill at the uncertainty on his face. But Stayne took her hand, letting her pull him into the bedroom; the door shut and locked behind him.

The night had only begun.


End file.
